The Man Who Changed My Life
by Bunnydish Rainbowdash
Summary: Sherlock doesn't know what he's in for when Lestrade calls him down one late night asking about a strange organization called Torchwood. Being asked to investigate, Sherlock meets a wild cast of characters that brings his world into a spin such as allies, enemies and demons! Will Sherlock be able to solve the case? Read and find out! This is a SuperTorchLock fic
1. Chapter 1: Knowing About Him

**Author's note: I am so sorry, for those who read the fanfic and saw that I posted the second chapter as the first. I didn't realize I did that till now. Apologies. **

The phone rang in the bleary hours of Baker Street. "Sherlock…You going to get that?" John said sleepily as he snuggled the detective. The consulting answered the phone with a dull "hello?" "Sherlock? It's Lestrade, you better get over here." "What for?"

"We need your help." "Yes, I've established that, but what for?" "I'm not at liberty to say over the phone, Sherlock." "Give me ten minutes." He hung up and sighed heavily.

"Was that Lestrade?" Sherlock nodded. "He wants me to go over to the Yard." "It's...-" John looked at the clock. "…two o'clock in the morning, Sherlock what does he want?!" "I don't know. He just told me to go over."

"I'm going with you." "No John. Stay here. I'll only be a tad." With that, he kissed him softly and got out of bed, quickly dressing himself and in a cab on the way to the Yard.

"I'm here." He called as he walked in, seeing Lestrade and a few other detectives crowded around a computer screen. Greg looked up.

"Ever heard of Torchwood?" he asked. "What?" Sherlock queried, thrown off by the sudden question. "The Torchwood Institute."

"Not at all…what is it?" "We don't know." The detective inspector pointed to the computer screen where a giant logo with the word 'Torchwood' fishtailed on screen. As the logo was clicked on, it showed the profiles of five individuals; Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper, Jack Harkness, Owen Harper and Toshiko Sato.

"Ever heard of them?" Greg asked. Sherlock shook his head. He studied the profiles carefully, then stopped once he got to Jack Harkness.

"This man, have you seen him before?" Sherlock glanced at him. "Was hoping you could tell me." They both looked to the screen which went blank in two seconds.

"What happened?" the DI questioned the other detectives.

"I don't know sir." Gregson replied quickly.

"It seems to be some sort of malware." Dimmock spoke up. The computer screen was left blank.

"Sherlock, come with me." The consulting detective followed the detective inspector to his office.

"I want you to find out who these people are. There's an archive-"

"I know where it is."

"Okay…that's where you'll find the files." Sherlock nodded and headed over.


	2. Chapter 2: Meeting Him

As Sherlock walked through the archive, he was in deep thought. He walked to the 'T' section of the archives for 'Torchwood'. Though, the more he walked, he felt like there was another presence in the room. But, work was work so he quickly dismissed the feeling and continued his thought process.

Sherlock walked down the passage of shelving to the specific category in which he hoped to find a file, or any file connected to Torchwood. He looked through various categories until he found it; the Torchwood file. Sherlock opened it and began to read it.

"You really shouldn't be here." Said a voice. The consulting detective looked up. There in front of him stood a man he well recognized.

"You're…Captain Jack Harkness." He stated matter-of-factly.

"You're going to die." He had said.

"What?" Sherlock was confused.

"You're going to die!" he spoke up, enunciating his words. With that, the Captain left. Sherlock put the file down and went after him. "Wait" he called out. "What do you mean I'm going to die?" Just then, he heard a voice. Calling his name.

"Sherlock." He turned to see a little girl covered in Semtex. "Help me." She pleaded. He moved in to help her, but once he saw the red light on her chest, he stopped.

"It's alright…what's your name?" he asked softly. "Amanda." She replied, tears falling from her petite face.

"Mr Holmes please help me." She sobbed. He heard the steady beeping of a bomb rapidly increase in seconds.

"Please help me!" she cried. "Why are you just standing there?! Can't you help?!" Sherlock was at a loss for words. Why wasn't he helping her? As he stepped forward, he felt strong arms pull him away.

"That's not a good idea, Sherlock Holmes." The detective was looking into Jack Harkness' eyes.

"Run." He whispered. Sherlock didn't have the time to react before Jack pushed him, and himself out of the window as the bomb deteriorated the fraction of the archive.

They landed in a nearby fountain; Jack breaking Sherlock's fall. He got off him quickly, realizing their compromising position.

"I could have saved her!" Sherlock yelled, exasperated.

"You would have been blown up. I believe a thanks is in order." Jack replied snippily. Sherlock glared at him. This man was going to be a pain and he knew it well. He entered his mind palace, gazing at him absent-mindly. After a few minutes, he spoke up.

"You're hurt." Jack looked at his body. A broken arm.

"I'll be fine." He said as he stood; his arm falling limply beside him. As if in a flash, his arm began to piece itself back together.

"That's…not possible." Sherlock gaped. "I can explain." Jack interjected uncertainly. Sherlock looked at him questionably. He paused for a moment; as if gathering words to say.

"Well, go on." The detective pressed on. "Perhaps you know already?" the captain countered. "You're London's greatest detective. Why don't you deduce from the facts.

"American. Recently travelled from Cardiff…you're not human. Like me."

"That's where you're wrong, Mr. Holmes-"

"Sherlock." He quipped.

"-I'm very much human; just like you." Sherlock looked at him. Was he missing something? "I am an immortal man, Sherlock Holmes…I have seen many things that you cannot even begin to imagine." They hear the sound of footsteps and turn.

"She was the first of many. Be prepared Sherlock Holmes and Jack Harkness. They're coming." A man looking to be in his late teens said.

"Who are you?" Jack questioned.

Then man began to convulse violently, his speech became impaired and less fluent. A cloud of smoke black dust clouded around him and as soon as it appeared, it vanished into the sky. The boy collapsed on the ground. Jack rushed to his side. Cuts and gashes appeared on the boy; he was bleeding profoundly.

"Call an ambulance." He instructed Sherlock. The detective nodded and pulled out his mobile. "What's your name?" the captain asked calmly. "J-John…" a fit of coughs wracked his frail body, a dab of blood dribbling down the corner of his mouth. "John…Stamney."

"They're on their way." Jack nodded then turned back to questioning the boy. "Do you remember what you told us?" John shook his head. "There was this guy…in a suit."

"His name?" Sherlock queried. John swallowed hard.

"James Moriarty." He heaved another coughing fit and went completely still. Jack looked to Sherlock. "He's dead." He confirmed as he checked for a pulse at the man's wrist. The dark haired detective moved away from the scene. Suddenly, he was overcome with a wave of emotions. A tear fell, and then his lithe body wracked with sobs.

"Sherlock?" Jack questioned, concerned for the man. "Did you know him?" Sherlock shook his head.

"My partner…his name is John…I just…sorry." They heard the approaching sounds of sirens. He felt the warmth of the captain's embrace shroud him with tenderness as the sobs were brought to an end. "I know what it feels like." He responded plainly.

The paramedics did what they could but John Stamney was far from alive, that much they knew. It was then that Sherlock saw Greg's familiar face.

"The bloody hell happened?" he queried, clearly flabbergasted as to seeing Sherlock in the state he was in. The detective opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the captain. "Mr. Holmes is in shock, detective inspector Lestrade, perhaps now is not the best time." Gregory looked at him questionably, then turned to Sherlock, helping him to the nearest ambulance.

"I want to see John. Lestrade, take me home."

"Let the parameds do their procedure, Sherlock." He sighed shakily, nodding solemnly; like a child would. Greg had left him to talk to the other detectives that made themselves present. Jack went up to him with a bottle of water.

"You should drink something it'll help calm your nerves." Sherlock gave him a look.

"You've drugged it. I'm not drinking it."

"How could you tell?" the captain asked, suddenly intrigued. "The bottle is opened. Not that hard to figure out." He stated rather bored.

"You're very clever." Jack said calmly. He dumped the contents on the pavement. In one swift movement, Jack kissed the detective. Sherlock tensed as he felt the velvety soft lips gently touch his. Delicately he pushed away with ease.

"Captain. My partner would not be too pleased." He looked at him coldly. "Mr. Holmes, what is there to tell him if you don't remember?" And then, Captain Jack Harkness walked away. Greg went to Sherlock's side.

"What was that about?" he had asked, rather surprised as to what just happened. "I don't know." Sherlock replied simply.

Then it hit him; a wave of nausea and fatigue that caused him to stumble. "You alright?" Greg asked. The detective nodded. "I think I should be going home, Lestrade, I presume we're done here?"

"Yeah."

Sherlock stood up shakily. He got to the street side and called for a cab. To his fortune, one pulled up. As he got in, he spoke the words "221B Baker Street."

The cabbie drove on.

He was unsure of how long it took to get to the flat but he got out nonetheless. He went up the stairs, slamming the door shut.

"Sherlock? Is that you?" John called from the bedroom.

Sherlock had already passed out on the couch.


	3. Chapter 3: The Night He Can't Remember

Sherlock woke to the sound of his mobile. He answered it groggily.

"Hello?"

"You're awake." It was John; worried no doubt. "What time do you get back at?" Sherlock tried to think.

"I'm not too sure."

"I'll be home in half an hour. Can you hold yourself up till then?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, I'll see you then…" John hung up. Sherlock, shortly after did the same, tossing the phone aside nonchalantly. He decided on breakfast. Shakily, he stood only to result in a splitting headache. Sherlock paused a few moments to recompose himself before continuing to walk to the kitchen. He grabbed a muffin and a glass of milk and sat back on the couch. The doorbell rang. Sherlock sighed; he went to the door, opening it to see Greg Lestrade.

"It's rare to see you here." Sherlock said with a hint of curiosity lacing his voice.

"I wanted to see if you were alright…"

"That's a strange thing to think about Lestrade. You aren't pining for me are you?"

"What? No…What? Sherlock I'm not-"

"Yes you are."

"How-never mind. I guess you wouldn't have remembered last night."

"Why? Did we have a drunken shag?"

"No!" Greg shouted, tinting pink. "Sherlock, there was a man, Jack Harkness; Captain of Torchwood. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes. I don't exactly know what happened but he kissed you and he must've drugged you…" Sherlock looked at him silently, his demeanour towards the man changing greatly. The door opened and John entered. He saw Greg and greeted him fondly.

"Hello Greg, what brings you here?"

"Checking on Sherlock; same as you." John nodded. "There is something you ought to know though…"

"What's that?"

"He was drugged. By a man named Jack Harkness." The doctor's face fell. He looked to Sherlock who nodded uncertainly.

"I didn't remember till Lestrade told me." He said quietly.

"Let's get you to the clinic then. Sherlock can you walk?"

"Of course I can." John nodded at the man's sarcasm. He guided his partner to a cab where they took the Tube to the clinic.

* * *

"Well whatever he gave you Sherlock, it's completely untraceable. I can only assume it was the date rape drug; or something of the genre." Sherlock looked panicked.

"I-I wasn't raped was I?" John shook his head. "No. And thank god for that it looks like he didn't even touch you." Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief.

"Can we go home?" John nodded. "Let me just pack up here." He said as he began to put his medical tools back in their place. After that was done, they went back on the Tube and took another cab back to the flat. Sherlock went back to the couch and decided to take a well-deserved rest.

It was about two hours later that Sherlock sprung off the couch, frightening John shitless.

"I remember."

"What?" John was confused.

"I remember last night."


	4. Chapter 4: About Last Night

"I had gone to the archives, like Lestrade told me to, and then that guy; Jack Harkness was there…he told me I was going to die…I still don't know what he meant by that…" Sherlock paused, taking a shaky breath. "I tried to follow him; ask him what he meant, but then, this little girl, Amanda…sh-she died, set as a decoy, most likely to destroy the information in the archive…Jack had saved me. Then, this guy had come up to us, saying that she was the first of many and that we should await what's coming for us…the boy just suddenly convulsed and died…John…his name was John. The paramedics came, so did Greg. Then I went back to the flat…"

"So when did he drug you?" John asked curiously.

"What?"

"Greg said this Jack guy drugged you…are you having trouble remembering?"

"Y-yeah…th-that's all I remember…" The phone interrupted their conversation. John answered.

"Hello?"

"John, it's Lestrade. Tell Sherlock to get over here now. We've got a new lead." John looked at his partner.

"A-are you sure that's a good idea?"

"John." The detective inspector said seriously. "We need him, there's been a murder." The doctor sighed.

"Alright, I'll let him know."

"I'll text you the address." With that, they hung up the phone. "That was Lestrade. He's got a case for you…now, if you don't want to take it-"

"I'll take it."

"It's a murder case."

"Oh joy! It's Christmas."

"Sherlock. Are you sure you want to take the case?"

"Of course I'm sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're ill, Sherlock! You need rest!"

"I'll be fine."

"If you faint at the crime scene I will personally kill you myself."

"I thought you were a doctor. Aren't you supposed to be saving lives and not ending them?"

"I've had bad days."

"Let's go." John nodded, grabbing his coat from the coat rack and shrugging it over his shoulders. They headed to the crime scene.

* * *

"Ever seen anything like it?" Greg didn't know what to make of the body. The man's throat had been torn open, puncture marks scattering the skin. Sherlock shook his head.

"Can't say I have." He simply replied. A black jeep pulled up to the scene. As it parked, a man came out, running over.

"Torchwood!" he said plainly to the detective inspector as he went up to the body, examining it. Another man with short black hair approached the body. They spoke few words but understood each other.

"Excuse me." Said Sherlock rather annoyed. "What are you doing here?" The man examining the body stood.

"I'm Owen Harper. We're Torchwood." A wave of nausea overcame Sherlock as his memory returned fully; he staggered backwards.

"Sherlock!" John had caught him before he fell.

"He alright?" Owen asked. "I'm a doctor-"

"Yeah so am I." John looked to Sherlock. "Sherlock are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"M-memory…" he mumbled. "M-my memory…I remember everything." John brought him to a nearby bench.

"What do you remember?" he asked softly.

"John, I swear it meant nothing?" Sherlock replied desperately.

"_What _meant nothing? Sherlock, you can talk to me, you know that."

"How he drugged me…he kissed me…I'm sorry John…had I known it was happening…"

"You thought I was going to leave you?" Sherlock nodded, tears streaking his cheeks. "Oh Sherlock…I'm not going to leave you because of that." He wiped his tears. "Since when do you know me to leave because of something so trivial?" Sherlock nodded.

"I know." He finally replied.

"Let's get you home."

"But the crime scene-"

"Can wait. Sherlock, come on." Sherlock nodded and stood shakily. John took hold of him firmly.

As they walked to the street-line they passed a familiar someone.

"John stop." He did so.

"What Sherlock?"

"It's him. Th-the guy from last night." John turned to see Captain Jack Harkness himself. The captain went up to them.

"Everything alright?" he asked. John nodded.

"He's just a bit ill is all. He'll be fine." The doctor responded. Jack nodded in return.

"Good to hear."

"Well…we must be off now." John led Sherlock to a nearby cab and entered it with him. The cab drove back to the flat.

A Welshwoman with black hair approached Jack.

"His memory returned didn't it. Shouldn't we do something?" Jack looked at her.

"Everything's alright Gwen. We'll leave him be."


End file.
